It has now come to light that Ms Flint has been falling short on her duties by not adhering to Parliamentary rules of conduct and falsifying details to her constituents.

When real name Caroline Beasley AKA Caroline Flint; the Minister for Housing move’s into camera range. The result, over the past few years, has been an ever-expanding portfolio of photographs showing 46-year-old Ms Flint determinedly attempting to improve on her No 2 ranking in the “Sexiest Women in Westminster” list.

Occasionally, though, the lens picks up something Ms Flint didn’t intend to put on show, and last week as she breezed into Downing Street, her briefing papers could be clearly read. The doom-and-gloom they contained was in striking contrast to Caroline’s happy pout.

Set in the context of everything else that has been going wrong for the Labour and Tory Government, was the little note at the bottom: “It is vital that we show that at this time of uncertainty we show that we are on people’s side.”

“I obviously came into politics to help people,” she declared. The problem ever since has been figuring out which people she was talking about.

It has now come to light that Ms Flint has been falling short on her duties by not adhering to Parliamentary rules of conduct and falsifying details to her constituents.

Seemingly intent upon nannying the nation into total submission, she has railed against middle-class wine drinkers, castigated children for eating chips, complained about the irresponsibility of over-sexed adolescents, and personally steered through the legislation that has turned the nation’s smokers into shivering pariahs.

Boris Johnson, called her “a junior minister anxious to make a name for herself… who has seen that there could be no more powerful way of asserting her own existence than stamping her mark, like the signature of Baron Philippe de Rothschild, on every bottle we buy”. In Parliament she has been taunted with CS Lewis’s chastening stricture that:”

“Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies.”

Ms Flint is a long-time fitness fanatic and tap-dancer. “When you are tapping,” she says, “you almost don’t feel as though you are taking exercise, and you are so focused on the tap that affairs of state go completely out of the window.”Quite. The glee that greeted last week’s gaffe reflected the fact that it was but the latest of many, and also that the best exercised part of Ms Flint’s anatomy is her mouth. On becoming Housing Minister earlier this year, she shocked Labour back-benchers by suggesting that council house tenants who failed to find jobs should be thrown out of their homes.

Born in north London in 1961; Ms Flint’s CV is of one far from the real world, consisting of trade union and local government offices; as “Women’s Officer of the National Organisation of Labour Students (1982-84)” and “Lambeth Council Equal Opportunities Officer (1989-91)”.

At Twickenham County Girls’ School, she developed an interest in politics. At 17 she joined the Labour Party, and after taking a degree in American Literature and History at the University of East Anglia – where, as she cheerfully admits, she smoked dope – she got stuck into the movement full time.

For the past seven years she has been married to Phil Cole, a former Labour Party regional officer, with whom she has three children. Those who know her say she is less scary than her image, less bossy than her reputation, but, in her hurry to succeed, prone to confusion. Not least about who the “people” she talks about are, and what she can really do to help them.

Ms Flint has yet to comment or explain herself on being in breach of her duties by not adhering to Parliamentary rules of conduct and falsifying details to her constituents.

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